


Met by Moonlight

by Shadowheartdesigns (shadowkitten)



Series: AU_gust 2020 Writing Challenge Stories [1]
Category: Princess Principal (Anime), World of Greyhawk
Genre: AU-gust 2020, Alternate Universe - Crime, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, Non-Chronological, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25644088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowkitten/pseuds/Shadowheartdesigns
Summary: Theft by moonlight does not quite go according to plan, and Princess catches Thief in the act.Expanded to three chapters!Part 1 - August 1 - Fantasy (posted)Part 2 - August 12 - Crime (posted)Part 3 - August 30 - Magic (posted)
Relationships: Ange le Carré & Dorothy MacBean, Ange le Carré & Princess | Charlotte, Beatrice & Princess | Charlotte
Series: AU_gust 2020 Writing Challenge Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859071
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15
Collections: AUgust 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 was originally posted on its own.  
> I had written a bit more on this idea, and pared it down. Reviewing the other bits, I decided there was enough to post, and that the entire work was, in a way, a fusion of Fantasy, Crime and Magic.  
> The Crime and Magic chapters each will focus, more or less, on those story elements.

A gentle, warm breeze blew in through the open window. Luna, waning, was just past full, and bathed the room in a silvery blue light.

A lithe figure in dark leather armor slipped in through the window. Her face was half covered by a black cloth mask, and she wore a tight fitting black leather cap. Stray silvery grey strands poked out from beneath.

She took stock of the room's contents. Most notable was the large, four-poster bed made of roanwood. The curtains were pulled back to reveal the sleeping form of a beautiful young woman. Her blonde hair splayed across the silk pillows under her head.

Though her gaze lingered on the woman a moment longer than it ought, the woman was not the main reason for this intrusion. Other features were more important, most notably the small wooden box on a mirrored dressing-table. And the chest-of-drawers that sat on the opposite wall.

She moved silently around the bed, and glanced at the door. It was on the other side of the room from the window.

With a glance to the young woman to ensure that she still slept, the thief crept to the chest-of-drawers. She knelt and opened the lowest drawer on the right hand side.

"Is there something in particular you're looking for?"

She turned, drawing a thin steel dagger with her left hand. The woman sat up in bed, her eyes open and with no apparent sign of either fatigue or fear.

Her eyes were a rich aqua blue, a color and quality that the intruder had seen only in the mirror.

She blinked, then held a finger up to her face. "Shh."

The woman smiled. "I've no intent to call out an alarm."

The intruder regarded her for a moment, then gestured with the dagger.

"Oh, shall I stay here?"

The thief nodded, watching her just another moment. Then she sheathed her dagger and turned back to the drawer.

"You know, it is quite rude to rifle through a lady's underclothes. If there's something in particular you're looking for, I may be able to help you find it."

The intruder ignored her, instead closing one drawer and opening a second.

The woman stood up gracefully from the bed. The intruder again turned, drawing her dagger.

"This is terribly tedious you know? I don't really pose a threat to you, do I? I'm unarmed, wearing only a nightgown. If you look around the room, which I am quite convinced you have done, you'll see there are no ready weapons."

The thief sighed, stood up, and sheathed the dagger. "Why?"

The woman's smile widened, and she took a step closer. "Why would I help you find what you intend to rob from me?"

The intruder nodded.

"Well, it is quite a boring life that I lead, isn't it? Jalpa's hardly a suitable place for a young maiden such as myself. I've little else to do with my time here."

She regarded her carefully for another moment. "It is a jewel. Made of fine platinum, the front is engraved with floral patterns and vines, and has inset two rubies and two emeralds. The back is likewise engraved. To your eyes it would seem only to be ornamental scrawl."

The woman's smile widened yet further. "Oh, that? I see. May I ask why you assume I can't read Elvish script?" She ran a hand through her hair on one side, enough to reveal a subtle, but unmistakable, point on the slender upper lobe of her ear. "Especially as it is part of my heritage. Of yours as well, if I do not miss my mark."

"It is all that I seek," the intruder said, without answering her question.

"Hm. Well, it is a piece of jewelry, so I should assume it to be with the rest," she said with a vague gesture toward the dressing-table.

The thief stood still one more moment, before turning and looking carefully at the box.

"It's not trapped. In fact, other than the amulet the box contains nothing more than costume jewelry. A feeble ruse I suppose, but I never expected a thief to get this far in the first place."

Gloved hands carefully traced along the edges of the box, then over the latch.

The woman sighed. "See?"

The thief slowly and carefully undid the latch, and pulled the lid open. It held gold and silver chains, ruby and diamond rings, and various charms made from gold and silver.

And, in the back, a small oval made of platinum, with two inset rubies, and two inset emeralds.

"You know," the woman said casually, "you do remind me of someone. Have we met before?"

The thief froze. Slowly, her eyes rose to look at the woman's reflection. "I believe this is the first time," she said slowly.

"Hm. I suppose that is most likely true."

The thief reached out and grasped the amulet, stashing it in a pouch at her hip. Then, she grabbed a handful of other jewels.

"Well, this is disappointing. I thought you only wanted to steal that amulet."

After shoving two handfuls of jewels into her pouch, the thief turned. "While that's true, it would seem strange if that were all that was missing."

"Oh, I see. You don't want anyone to know that's what you were after. And yet, you did tell me."

The thief's eyes narrowed. "You will not tell anyone."

"No, of course I won't."

The thief nodded. She glanced back at the jewelry box. There were still many glittering valuables within.

A knock at the door caused both women to jolt in surprise. "Your highness?" called a thin, feminine voice.

"Just one moment, Beato," she called out. Then whispered, "You ought to leave before my friend forces her way in. She is quite protective of me."

"Princess? Is everything alright in there?"

Princess smiled, arching her eyebrows. "Of course," she said aloud. "I am indisposed at the present. If you'll wait I'll let you in."

There was no answer at first, and Princess gestured at the open window.

The thief looked at the door, then at Princess. She nodded, and moved to it swiftly but quietly.

"Princess? I'm getting worried. Are you sure everything's alright?"

"Yes, Beato. I'm putting on a nightgown if that's quite alright?"

"Ah. Um," the girl at the door spluttered. "I, um."

Princess grinned at the thief, who rolled her eyes, and slipped out of the window. The thief pulled a small brass orb from another pouch at her hip. Then, to Princess' surprise, she stepped back into the open air, and rather than falling, shot up into the sky.

"Princess?"

Princess blinked and shook her head.

"Coming," she called out, padding over to the door. She unlocked and opened it, allowing a young, shorter woman with light orange-brown hair to enter. She wore a light green nightgown and slippers, and a green ribbon tied around her neck.

"Your jewelry box is open," Beatrice noted.

Princess closed the door, and glanced in its direction. "So it is."

Beatrice looked at her curiously, then walked over to it. "It seems some things are missing."

"Oh, are they? I hope nothing of true value is gone."

"Well, some cheap trinkets appear to be taken. Oh, and that Elvish amulet you were entrusted with. So no value, only the certain doom of the world."

Princess frowned. "You're being overly dramatic, Beato."

Beatrice shot her a glare, then stalked over to the open window. "I've warned you about keeping this open when you sleep."

"It's so stuffy in here, though."

Beatrice sighed, and glanced out. "Jalpa's not completely safe, Princess."

"I like it here," Princess said offhand.

Beatrice sighed again, and closed the window. "I realize you assume that things are safe because you were sent here, but it really isn't."

Princess shrugged, and sat down on her bed. "I don't assume it to be safe, I know it to be."

"And yet, a thief made her way into your room and stole from you. I mean, what if she had intended to harm you?"

"She?"

Beatrice scowled. "Or he. The point is, the amulet has been stolen from under your nose. I don't understand why you're so calm about that!"

"Panic won't retrieve the amulet any faster, will it?"

"We'll have to tell Duke Normandy about this."

"I'd rather he not find out."

"But Princess, with all due respect, it is his job to keep you safe!"

"Beato, you can track the amulet."

"Yes, of course I can."

It hadn't been a question, but Princess nodded. "I'd rather deal with the thief myself, and not involve my uncle."

"Princess, I don't know if that's safe or wise."

"If you are there to protect me, I am quite certain to be safe."

Beatrice's cheeks heated, and she shrugged.

"Besides, I may have caught a glimpse of our thief."

"What?!"

"She's a slight thing, likely underfed. Doubtless entirely ignorant of the amulet's nature. I wouldn't feel unsafe facing her alone, honestly."

"I doubt _she_ would be alone."

"Neither will I?"

Beatrice sighed, and nodded. "Alright. I won't tell your uncle. But, we should track that amulet tonight!"

"Now who is being rash? Beato, you should get a good night's rest to be ready. Besides, we'll be entering an unsavory part of town most likely. It'd be foolish to do so at this hour."

"I suppose you're right."

"I am. We'll find the amulet, and the thief, and all will be well."

"And if it isn't, I suppose I can delay her while you call the watch."

"Indeed," Princess smiled. She gestured, and Beatrice shuffled uncertainly in place. Her cheeks reddened, and she walked over to the Princess, who reached out and wrapped her arms loosely around her body. "Thank you, Beato." She tightened her embrace, and Beatrice returned it.

"Now," Princess said pulling back, "go back to sleep. Forget about all this for the night. We'll resolve it tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Your Highness," she said quietly.

***

The common room of The Onyx Chalice was quiet. Nearly empty. A small group of men sat in one corner, glowering at the room and nursing hangovers by sipping at the weak morning ale. Some even had the stomach to eat bread.

A curvy brunette swept down the stairs in a bright green tunic and black leggings, a flat-cap perched on her head. She had a cheery demeanor and wide, brilliant smile that formed a sharp, if not jarring, contrast to the men.

She leaned over the bar and motioned at the keeper.

"Ma'am?"

"Platter of bread, meat, and cheese. For two."

The keeper nodded, with a thin smirk. "Yes ma'am. Drink?"

"Naturally," she said with a widening grin.

"Of what sort?" the tender asked patiently.

"Ale, of course. Again, for two."

As the keeper prepared their breakfast, she sauntered over to a table, ignoring the glares from the men in the corner of the room.

Shortly afterward, a slender young woman came down the stairway. She wore a long grey and black tunic, and tight fitting black leggings. Her hair was silvery-grey, cut asymmetrical: nearly shoulder length on her left side, the right was tightly braided and held up with a black ribbon. An observant person would've noted the faintly elongated, pointed upper lobe of her right ear.

Her expression was neutral, and she showed no sign of discomfort. The men glared at her as well for it.

"Morning darling," the brunette said with an amused grin.

"You may dispense with the act Dorothy," the other woman said without obvious irritation.

"Seriously, no fun at all."

"You've ordered us breakfast?"

"Sure. It'll be out in a sec. So, what's the agenda today, Ange?"

A barmaid came over to their table, setting a large platter filled with slices of bread, wedges of cheese, and chunks of sausages and roasted, though cold, mutton. Dorothy thanked her with a wide grin and a wink, and the maid gave her a sloppy curtsey before walking away.

Ange ate a small bit of sausage, washing it down with ale, before leaning forward. "I'm to meet with Seven. It will be quick, merely to confirm our success. We will be out of town by early afternoon, I believe."

"Good enough. Hopefully nothing comes up before ...."

She was interrupted by the door of the common room opening. There were groans and grumbles from the hungover men in the corner.

Dorothy and Ange both looked, and saw two young women enter the tavern.

One was a blonde with what could only be called regal bearing, wearing a white coat over a long black tunic and tight-fitting black leggings. White silk gloves covered her hands, and a white brimless cylindrical hat was on her head. The other was a younger, shorter woman with orange-brown hair. She wore a long green dress, shawl, bonnet, and white gloves. She was entirely covered other than her face. She looked quite displeased to be entering such a place.

Dorothy turned a dark scowl to Ange. "Undetected, huh?"

Ange shrugged, and grabbed a fresh bit of sausage.

The two strolled over to their table.

"Well," Princess said with a wide grin. "I believe explanations are in order."

"You stole something from the Princess!" Beatrice hissed. "We .…"

Princess held her hand up, and Beatrice quieted, though her expression remained quite dark.

"May we sit?" Princess asked politely.

Dorothy and Ange exchanged a look.

"Help yourself," Dorothy finally said when Ange remained silent.

Princess' smile widened. She sat down heavily in the chair next to Ange, jostling against her as the chair shifted in protest. A look of surprise briefly flitted across Ange's face, before her neutral expression returned.

Beatrice muttered an invective under her breath, but sat down in the free chair. She glanced warily between Ange and Dorothy.

"Now," Princess said evenly. "You have, as my companion has stated, stolen something from me."

"Why would you say that?" Ange asked evenly.

"I can tell!" Beatrice started. "The amulet is .…"

Again, Princess raised her hand to silence Beatrice.

"I see," Ange said, her voice still neutral. "You can feel its magic, then?"

Beatrice shifted awkwardly, and shrugged apologetically at Princess.

"Yes," Princess replied simply.

Dorothy frowned. "So you left your pampered little tower to try to take it back?"

Beatrice glowered, and opened her mouth to retort, but Princess silenced her with a shake of her head.

"You presume quite a bit. Well, we're being quite rude, aren't we? My name is Charlotte, and this is my friend Beatrice. We have, indeed, come to retrieve the amulet."

"It's in a secure place," Dorothy said with a frown. "You won't get it back."

"Ah, what a pity. Well then, I will ask you for your names?"

"I'm Ange. She's Dorothy."

Dorothy narrowed her eyes and shot a glare at her partner, but Ange ignored the look.

"A pleasure," Charlotte said, her smile widening. "With the formalities out of the way, I should like to know one thing: Why?"

"Why'd we steal from you?" Dorothy asked.

"Naturally."

The barmaid interrupted them, and Charlotte casually ordered two more mugs of ale. Beatrice made a face of disgust, but said nothing.

When she left, Ange leaned forward. "We have our reasons. They do not pertain to you."

"Ah, you are wrong there. The amulet is a very intimate concern of mine. As such, I demand to know what is so very important that you'd risk the wrath of the town guard to take it."

Ange waited until the barmaid had delivered tankards of ale to Charlotte and Beatrice. Charlotte thanked her, and promptly took a long draw of the liquid. Beatrice scowled at her drink, and very noticeably avoided even touching it.

"Again, we have reasons that do not concern a second-rate princess of the Great Kingdom."

Beatrice gasped, and looked in shock at Charlotte. The blonde's smile widened yet further.

"I find repeating myself to be quite tedious," she said in an almost amused voice. "The amulet was entrusted to me, so any reasons you have involving it concern me."

"Well," Dorothy said, her expression turning smug. "You might be concerned, but as it happens we have the amulet. You don't. Nothing stops us from leaving anytime we want, and leaving you behind to never see it again."

"Except for the town watch," Beatrice grumbled.

"We've evaded far more competent guardsmen than yours," Ange replied evenly.

Beatrice clenched her fists, but didn't retort.

"You are quite right of course," Charlotte said casually. "Experienced rogues such as you have little to fear from a town watch. If you had possession of the amulet, you could indeed leave at any time, and go about your business."

"If? Sorry Princess, we do have it. Right, Ange?"

"Have you?" The Princess slipped a hand into a pouch at her hip, and pulled out a small platinum oval, engraved with the thin flowing script of the Elven people.

Beatrice gasped, and Dorothy's eyes widened in surprise.

She turned to Ange. "Hey, _partner_ , I thought you said you had that in a secure place?!"

"There is no place more secure than my person," Ange replied calmly.

"That so, huh?" Dorothy asked bitterly.

Charlotte slipped the amulet back into her hip pouch. "As I said, _if_ you possessed the amulet you could simply leave and go about your business. As you do not, I must ask, again, what business you have with it?"

Ange allowed a brief look of annoyance to cross her face. "This changes nothing. We have business that is not the concern of Aerdi nobility."

"I see. Then you leave me no choice. I must come with you."

"What?!" Dorothy and Beatrice both cried at the same time.

Charlotte glanced at the two of them. "I don't object to you making use of the amulet, provided it's for a good enough cause. However, it was entrusted to me. As such, I will not part from it, regardless of what I have to do. I will accompany you on your quest, or you will have to find another means to accomplish it. This is not negotiable."


	2. Chapter 2

Whether it was late night or early morning depended on perspective. The moon was still high in the sky, and the sun was still hours away from peeking up over the eastern horizon. Most of the city was still and quiet.

The Onyx Chalice was very much not. A sizable inn and tavern, its common room was full of loud and intoxicated men and women. Human and not. Jalpa was still a trade crossroads and The Onyx Chalice reflected this.

When the door opened and a young slender woman entered, only a few bleary eyes raised up to take her in. She wore a long grey and black tunic, and tight fitting black leggings, under a dark grey cloak. A pack was slung over her shoulders. Her hair was silvery-grey, cut asymmetrical: nearly shoulder length on her left side, the right was tightly braided and held up with a black ribbon. A sober and observant person would've noted the faintly elongated, pointed upper lobe of her visible ear. Tonight, sober and observant did not appear to be the rule.

She glanced around the tavern, noting where people were congregated. Noting the cluster of three orcs sitting at a table devouring a plate of cheeses with drunken gusto.

She moved through the common room with an easy confidence, settling in on a stool at the bar. The tender turned to her questioningly.

"Mead," she said simply.

"Five Pence."

The woman nodded, and fished five silver coins out of her hip-pouch.

"You accept Nobles?"

The barman frowned, but nodded.

As he turned to prepare her drink, the woman felt a hand gently touch her right shoulder. She turned to see a tall, voluptuous brunette in a skimpy, black and purple dress.

"Hello there," the woman cooed.

She nodded in response, and turned back to her mead.

"Well," the woman said, sitting down beside her. "I couldn't help but notice you, You're quite a pretty little thing, aren't you?"

The slender woman glanced at the barkeep, who shrugged and moved on to other customers.

"You want something?"

The woman's smile widened. "Might say that. Was wondering if you're free."

"I see. Perhaps the better question is, are _you_ free?"

The brunette's smile wavered for a moment. "What a thing to ask. I am _free_ , but hardly _cheap_."

The woman looked back at her. "I see." She allowed her eyes to scan down the brunette's body, lingering on her proudly displayed cleavage.

The brunette laughed. "Like? Wanna see more?"

Her eyes raised, and a thin smile crossed her lips. "Perhaps. I assume you've a room here tonight?"

The brunette leaned in close, licking her lips with the tip of her tongue. "I have."

"Convenient."

"Very." She pulled back a fraction, and pulled a key from a hip pouch. "2-5," she whispered, dropping the key into the other woman's lap.

She clasped the key. "Two five," she repeated.

The brunette nodded, and slowly stood up, her fingertips caressing the woman's right cheek. "I'll wait for you."

The woman sipped her mead, and watched as the brunette sauntered to the stairs, glancing back at her with a wink.

Once she left, the woman motioned to the barkeep. "Is she yours?"

The tender frowned. "Not sure I take your meaning, ma'am."

"Is she in your employ?"

"I don't run a brothel here, ma'am."

"You seem not to mind it."

He shrugged. "What a common harlot chooses to do with her room isn't my place to say."

"I see. How much for a room?"

"You don't intend to pay your new friend a visit?"

"I'll pay you for a bed, even if I end up sharing hers. Besides, if things turn sour .…"

"I take your point. One Ivid per night. And before you ask, an Orb'll do."

"I happen to have an Ivid," she said simply, fishing a large gold coin out of her hip pouch.

The keeper nodded. "Well, then you have a pleasant evening, ma'am. I'll set a key aside for you just in case."

"Thank you," she said. She finished off her pint of mead, rose, and went up the stairs.

***

The brunette sat on the edge of her bed. Paper was spread out across the side table, and she was reading slowly. She still wore her dress, though her boots sat beside the door.

When she heard the lock click, she glanced up. The silver-haired woman entered.

"Heya partner," the brunette said casually.

"Dorothy, the next time we're to meet at a tavern, I would appreciate it if you would not act in such a manner."

"Pfh. No one's gonna wonder why we're sharing a room now. They'll just think I'm a cheap whore and you're lonely."

She closed the door and walked over to the bed, sitting beside her. "Well, they will be half correct anyway."

Dorothy scowled at her darkly.

"I retrieved the merchandise," the woman said.

Dorothy's expression instantly changed. "Alright! Well, long as you didn't kill anyone. You didn't, did you Ange?"

Ange shook her head, and casually pulled the amulet out of her hip pouch. "I did not. I used the orb to enter the mansion undetected, took the amulet along with some of Princess Charlotte's other jewelry, and left the same way."

Dorothy practically beamed. "Nice! Now, can we get the hell out of this craphole and go back to civilization?"

"Dorothy, this amulet does not represent an end to our quest."

"I know, but it does mean we can go back to Greyhawk, at least for a little bit. Or get out of Aerdy at any rate. Creeps me out."

"Understandably."

"Well, we've got a few hours until dawn. Get cozy and get some sleep."

"I need very little. In contrast, you ought to sleep off your current drunk."

"I am not drunk."

"We're in a tavern, Dorothy. Therefore, you are drunk. You cannot resist the temptations."

Dorothy frowned. "I am _not_ drunk. I drank enough to make everyone think I was."

"You are quite convincing," Ange said dryly.

Dorothy scowled, but decided not to say anything else. As Ange shrugged off her backpack and cloak, she trimmed the lamp to dim the light. Then she lay down on the bed, facing the end table.

"Dorothy, I would also appreciate it if, in the future, you rent a room with two beds."

Dorothy turned to her with a grin. "What, don't want to sleep with me?"

"I would almost prefer to sleep on the floor."

Dorothy sighed, and turned away. "Ange, you are a cold-hearted bitch."

Ange, despite her protests, lay down on the bed. Careful to face away from Dorothy.

"I am a fugitive from the Black Lizard Tribe. My kind does not display such things as emotions."

"Yeah, sure. That why you have elf ears?"

"I am unable to entirely hide my nature with my magic. As such some sign of non-humanity is bound to shine through, even if it is of non-reptilian nature."

"You are so full of it."

"I am a liar, Dorothy. You know that."

"Uh huh. Good night, Lizard."

"Good night, Dorothy."

***

Ange sighed as she allowed the hot, steamy water to soothe her body. Aching muscles relaxed. She closed her eyes. For a moment she could forget the pains and hardships of the last month. Of the past day, at that.

It had only been a few hours since Princess had confronted them in The Onyx Chalice. This added a wrinkle to her plans, but didn't ruin them. Not entirely.

Her moment of peace was all too brief. She heard the door to the bath-room open.

"Oh," she heard a woman say. "Apologies, I didn't realize this room was occupied."

"It's no bother," Ange replied.

She heard the door close, heard bare feet pad along the textured marble flooring. The water rippled against her skin as she felt the woman step into the hot water.

Ange opened her eyes, and looked. The woman had a pronounced figure with wide hips and voluptuous breasts. Casually, Ange watched the woman lower herself into the water, before her eyes focused on her face. She had short red-brown hair and dark amber eyes. She didn't show any sign of embarrassment, settling on an upper step of the tub and allowing the water to lap up to her navel.

"Report."

All business. Ange closed her eyes again, and let herself settle back into the water. "We obtained the merchandise."

"I see. My contacts inform me the original owner has retained possession."

"Yes."

No immediate response. Ange opened her eyes and looked. Seven shifted, lowering herself into the hot water, nearly to her shoulders.

"This sounds uncomfortably like failure, A. You've seen the contract our client signed?"

"Of course."

"You don't sound especially worried."

"I am not. While the original owner has retained possession of the merchandise, I have obtained possession of the original owner."

Seven looked at her carefully. "Explain."

"The merchandise has changed hands twice. The original owner was far more skilled at retention than I was informed. However, she has a vested interest in seeing the merchandise put to good use. As such, she has agreed to allow us to make use of it. Provided she accompany it to its destination."

Seven's expression faltered just a touch.

"A, this pushes the boundaries of what the Guild will allow."

A thin smile crossed Ange's lips. "As expected of me?"

Seven sighed. She half-floated, half walked to the other end of the pool, settling against the stairs and closing her eyes.

Ange pulled herself out of the water, sitting on the pool's edge. She also showed no embarrassment or shame when Seven opened her eyes and fixed her with a stern gaze.

"It's too hot," Ange remarked casually.

"The water, or the assignment?"

"The water. I've the assignment well in hand."

Seven closed her eyes. "You've served us well for years. You've earned sufficient leeway that I won't consider this a failure. Yet. The client is to obtain his item, and the Guild is to receive its share. The original owner is entitled to nothing, unless it comes out of your share."

"I understand. As does my partner."

Seven laughed. "I doubt _that_ very seriously. After your last assignment, she confessed to being entirely unclear as to what motivates you."

"Is she displeased at our partnership?"

Seven shook her head. "It's too profitable for her to be displeased."

"Then there is no issue."

Seven opened her eyes again. "Do not fail, A. The client's contract is very specific: failure is to lead to termination. I do not mean expulsion from the Guild."

"I am aware."

"When do you leave?"

"This afternoon, all else being equal."

"Good. You'll be expected in Greyhawk next month."

Ange pulled herself up to her feet, and padded over to the door of the bath-room. She grabbed a fresh towel from a rack, and dried herself.

"The bath was enjoyable. Thank you for sharing it with me," she said in a neutral tone.

Seven didn't answer, so Ange left without further comment.

***

The west gate of Jalpa stood open during the day, and a steady stream of merchants and travelers set out at all hours toward Rel Deven and Kalstrand. The traffic was lighter than it used to be. Rarest were foreign merchants. A handful of them intended to turn northwest for Chathold, capital of the Great Kingdom's former province of Almor.

Dorothy sat near one such group, on a stump of some tree cut down many years before. She drummed her fingers against the wood, watching as the small group of merchants finished packing their wagon, and started out of the gate. She sighed heavily.

"You could have joined them."

Dorothy scowled, rising to her feet and rounding on Ange, who stood behind her. "You're late. If you'd been here on time .…"

"We would have still been obligated to wait for the Princess and her ... companion."

Dorothy rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms in front of her. "Still don't know how the hell you let her get the amulet back."

"I wonder."

Dorothy frowned and turned to watch the retreating merchants.

"Dorothy, did you speak with Seven?"

"Huh? When would I have been able to? We woke up at the same time."

"You did go down before I did."

"Yeah, Seven's good but even she couldn't have been in and out that quickly."

"If you say so."

"Why?"

"She seems to be aware that the Princess is still in possession of the amulet."

"Well, she does have eyes and ears all over Aerdy."

"I suppose that is it."

"What, you think I ratted you out?"

"I certainly hope not."

"We're partners, okay? I don't do that. I mean, I may not have many standards, but by Allitur, that's one of 'em; I don't fuck over my friends or partners."

"Then I apologize, Dorothy."

She nodded. "Accepted." She had turned away from the west gate, and was the first to spot the Princess and Beatrice approach. "Well, looks as though the Princess and her spaniel are here."

Ange frowned, and turned to look. Princess wore a black and blue tunic, tight black leggings and boots, and a heavy black, hooded cloak. Beatrice wore a baggy green tunic, leggings, and a short cloak. Her hair was done up in a curious twin-bun style, each bun in turn covered by a cloth cap. Both women had backpacks.

Princess, notably, wore a sword on her left hip.

"Well well," Dorothy said. "Nice of you to make an appearance."

Charlotte smiled. "As I am an essential member of this little band, I decided to be fashionably late."

"Lateness is in fashion?" Ange asked dryly.

"It is in the Great Kingdom," Beatrice sighed, glancing at Princess with what seemed exasperation.

Dorothy nodded, and hefted her pack to her shoulders. "Well, if we're all ready?"

"Yes," Ange nodded.

Dorothy, Ange, and Charlotte all began to walk toward the gate.

"Um," Beatrice said uncertainly.

The other three stopped, and turned to look at her.

"Yes, Beato?"

"Well, it's just that the coach office is over there."

Charlotte turned to look. "So it is."

"We're not taking a coach," Ange said.

"What?! We're walking!"

Dorothy grinned. "Yeah. Helps you grow big and strong, you know?"

Beatrice's eyes widened, her mouth gaping open. "I am not a child!"

"Sure, sure," Dorothy laughed.

"Princess!"

"Beato, please. You are making a scene."

"But we should hire a cab, or a coach, or ... or even a covered wagon. It's just not _proper_ to walk."

"Physical exertion too good for ya?" Dorothy jibed.

"No, of course not."

"Then shall we proceed?" Ange asked.

Beatrice sighed, hefted the weight of her backpack, and reluctantly followed.

They hadn't made it ten yards past the gate before Beatrice resumed grumbling.

"What now, kid?" Dorothy asked.

"I am not a kid."

"Beatrice, if you have a grievance?"

"I do, _Miss_ Ange! This is strictly intolerable. The road is designed for wagons. We ought to hire one."

"Beato," Charlotte said quietly, "a cab will cost us money."

"Yes?"

"A cab is also confining. We must choose a single route to follow, and be forced to remain passive in a small and easily targeted space," Ange noted.

Beatrice looked at her curiously.

"Afoot," the thief continued, "we may choose our own path, whether it is on the road, or perhaps a detour through a forest or across a river without a bridge."

"What difference does that make?"

"Beato," Charlotte said with thinning patience, "these charming young women stole an amulet from a Princess of the Great Kingdom. They are either members of a Thief's Guild, or independent operators. In either case, the less that traces them and their movement, the better."

"Yeah," Dorothy said, surprise in her voice.

Charlotte smiled at her. "I am not quite so isolated in my tower of ivory after all."

Dorothy shrugged at this.

"I ... guess that makes sense," Beatrice conceded.

"Besides, Uncle Normandy believes that we're en route to Kalstrand. It would be somewhat inconvenient were he to see an itinerary for us leading to, say, Chathold."

Dorothy glanced at Charlotte again. "Two for two."

Charlotte nodded. "I imagined as such. You're traveling west. Doubtless you want the fastest land route out of the Kingdom available. Tensions with Almor notwithstanding, it seems your most likely destination."

"That's a two-week journey, or more!"

"It remains the fastest and safest passage," Ange said.

"Safe is a very relative term for it," Beatrice groused.

"Beato, don't tell me you dislike Almor."

"No, I'm not worried about Almor."

"Then what's the problem?" Dorothy asked.

Beatrice refused to answer, and though no one pressed her on the matter, both Charlotte and Dorothy gave her puzzled looks.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Beatrice awoke. She yawned and stretched. Her curtains were open, so the light of the early dawn would wake her. She scowled briefly at the window, before closing the curtains and tugging off her nightshirt. She undid the ribbon from her neck and her hand went to her throat. Her fingertips grazed the smooth, glassy surface of the small oval gemstone embedded in her skin. She sat down at her dressing table, and leaned forward. It was grey-black, with ruddy highlights where strong light struck it. The surface was unblemished, without scratches or breaks.

She knew it wasn't possible to damage the gem, not without effort. Anything that could do so would likely represent a fatal injury to her anyway. Still, this was an important part of her morning routine: assurance that this vital and arcane part of her self was intact.

She sighed, and turned her attention to other matters. She carefully picked a silver ring with small, oval-cut gemstones: onyx and agate. She looked it over, almost as carefully as she had the gemstone in her throat, before slipping it on the middle finger of her left hand. She clenched the hand into a tight fist, then relaxed it again.

She dressed from head to toe, including gloves. It would be a warm day, but that didn't bother her. She felt safe encased in cloth, and in fact every part of her was covered except for her face.

She took a deep breath and left her room. The mansion was hardly a castle, but it had been fortified against the recent increase in crime in Jalpa. A low stone wall surrounded the grounds, and Normandy maintained a small force of guardsmen.

When Beatrice reached the foyer, she saw two guards standing beside the door. They wore tabards with Duke Normandy's colors and coat of arms over maillecoats. Both held glaive-guisarmes.

"Um," Beatrice stammered nervously.

"How can I help you, Your Grace?"

Beatrice shifted on her feet. Technically she was a minor noble, but being addressed in such a manner still seemed foreign to her.

"Ah, well I was supposed to meet Princess Charlotte here for an early morning walk. I was wondering .…"

"Beato, I apologize for my lateness." Charlotte walked down the staircase along the left side of the hall. She wore a white coat over a long black tunic and tight-fitting black leggings. White silk gloves covered her hands, and a white brimless cylindrical hat was on her head.

The guards both raised clenched hands to their chests in salute as she walked toward them.

"Oh, you're not late, Your Highness! I'm early if anything."

She smiled fondly at Beatrice. "Well, if you're ready?"

"Ah, yes of course."

The guardsmen opened the door, stepping out and facing the two as they left, again saluting.

A short cobblestone walkway led from the front door of the manor-house to the wooden front gate. A large maple tree grew beside a pond on one side of the path, with a small garden of lilies and roses to the other. With the early rays of sun, the flowers were starting to open.

Beatrice took another deep breath, folding her hands together and twisting the ring on her left hand with her thumb and forefinger. She whispered a quiet spell, and a very faint glow illuminated her chin.

Charlotte glanced at her with some concern, but Beatrice took a deep breath and smiled at her. "I'm ready," she said. Charlotte returned the smile.

The guards at the front gate opened it for them, again saluting. They walked out into the wide, quiet boulevard.

It was the rich quarter of Jalpa, with numerous large, increasingly fortified, manors on either side. Charlotte glanced at Prince Farland's impressive stone brick manor, which was far more like a castle than the others. His banner was absent from the flagpoles, signifying that His Highness was not currently in residence.

The two strolled casually toward the center of town.

"Do you need to stop, Beato?"

"No, Princess. I know where the amulet is. It's in a tavern not too far from here. I think it's called The Onyx Chalice."

"Ah, yes. I've heard of it. By reputation at least. A rowdy establishment, frequented by orc mercenaries and foreign merchants. Folk not considered proper enough to rent rooms in a nicer inn."

"No surprise. No local thief would be stupid enough to steal from you."

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

They walked in silence for a time. The manors gave way to shops and nicer taverns. It was still a nice section of town, resting secure in the shadow of the nobility's houses and temples. 

Reluctantly, Beatrice led Charlotte past these nicer places. As they passed into a shoddier section of the city, Beatrice found herself walking just a bit closer to Charlotte. To protect her, she told herself. She subconsciously gripped her left hand in her right, twisting her ring with her thumb and forefinger.

"Are you alright, Beato?"

"Ah. Yes, of course Princess. I'm just, um. Well, this is a somewhat nerve-wracking part of town."

"You're quite right of course. Still, a powerful mage such as yourself surely has nothing to fear from a few thieves and orcs."

Beatrice glanced at Princess uncertainly, and saw a vague look of amusement cross her face. "You're not taking this seriously."

"On the contrary, I'm taking it very seriously. There's no point worrying until we find the thief, so I'm saving my energy until that time. I'd recommend you do the same."

"Very well," Beatrice sighed.

***

After confronting Ange and Dorothy, Charlotte and Beatrice returned at their best pace to her uncle's manor. Charlotte was quiet and seemed distracted the entire time. Beatrice, for her part, found herself nervously looking over her shoulder, and carefully evaluating every person that they passed on the street.

When they finally returned, Beatrice sighed with something between relief and exasperation.

"I suppose we'd best prepare for our journey."

"Indeed," Charlotte replied, still seemingly absent.

"I wonder how long we'll be. Should I take my ... materials?"

Charlotte at last turned to Beatrice with something of an expression. "Oh. Yes, that would be for the best. I'm not certain how long we will be away, but plan for an extended trip."

"Charlotte."

The man who had called her was tall and severe, with grey-blond hair, in a loose blue tunic and breeches, and a plaid cloak.

"Uncle Normandy," she replied with a smile. "Delightful to see you."

"Yes. Might I have a word?"

"I'll be in my room, Highness?"

Charlotte smiled at Beatrice. "I'll see you later then."

Beatrice nodded and wasted no time leaving.

Charlotte took a deep breath and turned back to her uncle. "How can I help you?"

"In private?"

"Of course."

They went to a small parlor on the first floor.

"Did you enjoy your walk this morning?"

"Yes, thank you. It was pleasant."

"I see. Did I hear correctly, that you intend to leave on a journey?"

Charlotte paused, considering her answer. "You heard that? Yes, I intend to travel south to Kalstrand for a time. I hope there's no trouble?"

"That seems a bit much."

"Well, it's one of the safest roads in the Flaness. Patrols, many inns .…"

"Yes. The time is what concerns me. How long will you be away? A journey of that length seems to be unjustified if you don't intend to spend at least a week there. Perhaps longer?"

"A month, then?"

Normandy pursed his lips.

"Uncle," Charlotte said quietly, "I do not see the harm. I am, after all, of age."

"Technically."

Charlotte kept her temper even. "Yes. Technically. Do you doubt my maturity? My ability to comport myself?"

"No, not at all. In fact, were you pureblood human I would call you mature for your age. With your heritage, your level head and keen grasp of finer points of order is quite remarkable."

"Thank you," Charlotte said, choosing to accept the compliment, however backhanded it might have been.

"However, you are not pure human. Your kind takes longer to mature properly. You can well imagine that this is the reason that your grandmother and Prince Farland haven't yet released you from fosterage."

"I don't feel that I have any more to learn from him. Not that he's ever around to act as a foster in the first place."

Normandy nodded. "Yes, he is quite busy with politics. Well, as I am currently your guardian it is my place to approve or deny your plans."

"I appreciate that."

He smiled. "I see no obstacles. You're going with your little friend?"

Charlotte barely refrained from bristling. "Yes, Beatrice is coming with me."

"Good. She is also mature for her age, in her own ways. Yes, I do quite approve your plans. However, I expect you to be on your very best behavior. You shall be the representative of our family, after all."

"Of course."

"Further, I expect you to be gone no more than a month. Despite what I said earlier, your grandmother is in fact eager for your fosterage to end."

"Is she?"

"Discussions have revolved around finding a suitable husband for you."

Charlotte couldn't help but scowl.

"I understand your displeasure, but remember it is a very important step. You're not just choosing a husband, but a new member of the branch. If he's a good match for the family, he'll likely be given considerable authority."

"And if I choose not to marry?"

Normandy leaned forward. "What alternative did you have in mind?"

Charlotte shrugged. "Well, I don't want to voice all of my desires. I do note, however, that the current political situation is ... unstable. Also, my grandmother won't live forever, sad to say."

"And you are one of four heirs to her estate. Fourth in line to inherit the principality itself."

"Yes. It'd be a pity to be so close, and yet miss out on that opportunity."

Normandy nodded. "Well, this is all a matter for the future. You, in particular, must look to the long game. Small steps. A husband now perhaps, a principality in a few years. Entry into the game of politics, becoming a player in House Darmen. And then ... and then. Well, who knows?"

"Indeed."

Normandy regarded her for a moment, then nodded again. "That's all I had to discuss with you, for now. Enjoy your journey."

"Thank you."

***

After they had been on the road out of Jalpa for some time, the four companions stopped by the roadside to rest and take stock. It was late afternoon.

Out of the lanes of traffic, and the eyes of the watch, Dorothy carefully unwrapped a long bundle from her pack. Beatrice saw, to her surprise, that it was a crossbow.

"Why'd you hide that?"

Dorothy glanced up at her as she inspected the bowstring, the stock, and the trigger. "Makes civilized people kinda nervous. Out here on the road it won't be as noticeable."

"It doesn't look very strong."

She shrugged. "In our line of work, light, fast, and easy to hide is more important."

"So, you're an assassin?"

Dorothy glowered at her. "I most certainly am not! I do not kill for pay, nor for pleasure. I'd rather avoid it completely, but we're not always given that option."

Beatrice sighed, and noticed that Ange also retrieved a crossbow from her pack. It was a much smaller and lighter model, consisting of little more than a hand-grip, trigger, and small bow.

"I don't suppose you have one too, Princess?"

Charlotte laughed. "Of course not. I prefer simpler weapons, with fewer moving parts." She patted her sword, and smiled.

"As do I," Ange said. "However, as Dorothy mentioned, we are not always left with simple options."

"You have a weapon, kid?"

Beatrice glared at Dorothy. "Yes. I have a dagger."

"That all?"

Beatrice shrugged, and decided to search through her backpack to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.

"A dagger is more than sufficient for most needs," Ange said. "It's best to avoid prolonged engagement. A simple stab to the kidney, or the drawing of a sharp edge across an exposed throat is far more efficient."

Beatrice glanced up at her with a grimace. "That's quite repulsive."

"Killing is at times a necessity. It's best to get it over with quickly and without risk to yourself."

Beatrice sighed. "I guess you're right."

"If you'd like, I can teach you my techniques."

"No thank you," Beatrice replied as politely as she could.

When they resumed walking, Beatrice edged close to Charlotte. She gripped her hands together, fiddling with the ring on her left hand. She whispered something, and a brief glow illuminated her chin.

"Princess, do you trust these two?"

Dorothy glanced back at them with a frown. She saw Beatrice's lips move, but only heard a vague whispering murmur.

"Trust, Beato, is a very dangerous commodity. I trust their interest in the amulet, and in my ability to retain, or retake, it."

Beatrice sighed. "I still don't really understand why we're going along with this. It's not safe. I mean, you heard Ange? She doesn't seem to mind killing when she thinks it's necessary."

Princess smiled. "She won't kill me, I believe. Should she try she'll find me somewhat more of a handful than she might expect. And your magic makes you safe, yes?"

"I still don't like this."

"You know," Dorothy said, slowing her pace to move between them, "if you two wanna have a private talk there's better ways to do it than to waste magic."

Beatrice's cheeks reddened.

"Oh, were you using magic, Beato?" Charlotte asked in her most innocent voice.

Dorothy frowned at her. "As though you couldn't tell."

Charlotte shrugged. "Perhaps you're merely paranoid?"

"Of course I'm paranoid. A sword-wielding princess of the Great Kingdom, a gnome .…"

"I am not a gnome!" Beatrice shouted.

"It is more efficient to focus on walking than talking," Ange chided, the faintest touch of amusement in her voice.

"Dwarf? Halfling?"

Beatrice's expression turned progressively darker.

"I am a human. A petite human, but a human nevertheless."

"Uh huh," Dorothy nodded, her grin widening. "Anyway, you've got magical pokery going on, and you can't deny that."

Beatrice crossed her arms in front of her chest, and sped up to walk beside Ange.

"Your friend is something of an ass, _Miss_ Ange."

"You are correct. She will grow on you in time."

"Boccob forfend," Beatrice muttered.

***

They walked through the day, and as evening began to set in, they saw in the near distance a watchtower, lit by numerous torches. An inn sat at its foot.

"I don't suppose we can stay there the night?" Beatrice asked, a note of annoyance and weariness in her voice.

"I believe it would be a grand idea," Charlotte said.

Dorothy glanced at Ange, whose expression was unreadable as ever.

"Don't know. Doesn't sound safe to me. No telling who's in there."

"On the other hand," Ange said, "it would be nice to have a good soft bed for the evening."

Dorothy's expression darkened, but she said nothing.

"That," Beatrice said, "is one of the first things we agree on!"

Charlotte smiled. "Then it's settled. Is it not, Dorothy?"

Dorothy scowled at Charlotte, but she reluctantly nodded.

They stopped short.

"We ought to go in separately," Ange said. "On the chance someone recognizes any of us, it will be better that way."

"Agreed," Charlotte said. "It's a bit of an odd route for Kalstrand, but not entirely improbable."

"Then we'll go on ahead," Beatrice said, giving a quick challenging glance at Dorothy.

"Feel free," she said with a sigh.

"We shall," Beatrice said, turning and striding off.

Charlotte shrugged, grinned at the other two, and followed.

"That little imp is getting on my nerves," Dorothy grumbled, after they had left earshot.

"That may be, however it is to be noted that she has a fair grasp of magic. She barely needs speak anything. Her gestures are subdued at most. Also, I have seen no evidence that she requires any material components."

"Sure, but I haven't seen anything really spectacular from her. I doubt she could handle a good crossbow bolt."

"Perhaps not," Ange conceded, "However, I do suspect that the Princess might find that somewhat objectionable."

"Speaking of, what keeps her from just turning and heading back into town? Or going on to Kalstrand?"

"Nothing, I suppose."

"Then we ought to sneak into their room overnight and nick the amulet. _Without_ being caught this time."

"I think," Ange said evenly, "that we ought to let this play out."

Dorothy sighed. "When exactly did I lose control over this partnership?"

"To lose something, one must first have it."

"Damn lizard."


End file.
